


The Beginning of Wisdom

by Vandergaard



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F, Names, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 20:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17649647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandergaard/pseuds/Vandergaard
Summary: Vanessa might want to change her name. Charity's not sure how that makes her feel.





	The Beginning of Wisdom

**The beginning of wisdom is to call things by their proper name.** **  
** **Confucius**

 

"Mrs and Mrs Woodfield."

"Dingle, thank you."

The response is automatic. As far as Charity and Frank have come, as deep as they’ve buried the hatchet by this point, bonded over their shared worry over Vanessa in that hospital bed, Charity still can’t stop herself from getting the last word in. She half expects Vanessa to say something; roll her eyes or protest. Because Vanessa is nobody’s possession. Instead, Vanessa just smiles softly in that way she reserves just for Charity.

It’s only later that night, with Vanessa curled up against her fast asleep, that Charity reflects upon the impromptu celebration and remembers that smile and wonders what, if anything, it all means. 

_Mrs and Mrs Dingle._ She lets the words roll around in her head. _Vanessa Dingle_. Will you be _my_ _wife_. Charity meant it when she said she’d never thought those words would ever leave her mouth. She’d managed the impossible and surprised everyone, most of all herself.

Of course, it wasn’t really the proposal that surprised her, because she’d done it before with Jai and Cain. A girl will do all manner of foolish things out of desperation. No, it wasn’t the action of proposing. It was the intent. Before, when she’d proposed in the past, it was because she was out of ideas, or trying to force something that had no business ever happening. This time was different though. Charity didn’t need to propose. Vanessa didn’t expect her to propose. It wasn’t a proposal designed to paper over cracks or distract from an impending disaster. Charity proposed simply because she wanted to marry Vanessa and she wanted Vanessa to marry her.

Laying there in the dark, Charity wonders when and how she’s changed enough to become the sort of person who proposes because she was in love.

Vanessa moves closer in her sleep, and for a moment Charity thinks she’s going to wake up, but instead she takes a shuddering breath and sighs further into slumber. Suddenly happiness feels like such a real, tangible thing.

Charity tries to imagine what the girl-she-was would make of the woman she is now. If she could somehow go back in time, see her fourteen year old self, and tell her it gets better, would fourteen year old Charity even believe her?

_"Hi Charity. It’s me. Older Charity."_

_"You what?"_

_"F_ _rom the future. Thought you might like to know how this life thing turns out."_

_"You mean we survive?"_

_"Babe, we don’t just survive. We thrive. End up owning our own pub. Five gorgeous, perfect kids. And a stunning wife."_  

Charity really is living the dream and she can’t wait to make Vanessa a Dingle. She frowns. Vanessa Dingle. She wonders whether Vanessa wants to become a Dingle. Maybe Vanessa’s too much of a feminist to want to take her spouse’s name, regardless of said spouse’s gender. Maybe Vanessa’s too sane to want to take on the Dingle name. Yeah, that’s more like it. Who would want to be a Dingle by choice? It’s niggling at her now, but it’s late and she’s tired, so she shakes her head to try and clear her mind, then turns on her side and hopes sleep will come soon.

 

xxxxxxxxxx

 

A few weeks go by. It’s the end of a tedious afternoon of pulling pints and Charity’s had enough. The pub’s finally quietened down (at least until the evening rush starts back up again) so she walks over to the end of the bar and starts flicking through one of her ever-present magazines.

"What are you doing?" Marlon appears, unbidden, at her elbow, like an annoying genie nobody wanted to summon. "Reading?"

"Ten out of ten for observation," comes the dry response.

He glances over her shoulder at the content and then innocently remarks "thought it might have been a bridal mag."

Charity stops reading and straightens up, an eyebrow raised. "A bridal mag?"

"Yeah, you know. For wedding planning."

"Wedding planning?" She can’t seem to stop herself from repeating Marlon’s words back to him.

"Yeah," he grins. "For your wedding to Vanessa!"

"Marlon," she snaps. "Do you not have some spuds to peel or summat?" She hopes he’ll take the hint but instead he moves to the front of the bar and plops himself down on a stool directly in front of her.

"Nope. Everything’s under control. You’re watching a master at work!" He leans forward conspiratorially. "So how’s it all coming along anyway?"

"All what?"

"The Wedding planning!"

She shrugs a little too casually. "We haven’t really decided anything yet."

"Really?" Marlon stares at his cousin. His eyes narrow. "Really?"

She shrugs again. "We’ve been busy with work and the kids and-" she gestures aimlessly.

_"Seriously?"_

"What?"

He leans in even closer. "You’re telling me that Vanessa, who loves you, and can’t stop staring at that ring on her finger, and is _utterly obsessed_ with you? That Vanessa? Hasn’t started planning the wedding of the century?" His arms are flailing as his voice goes up an octave.

"Okay, okay." Charity holds up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "She might have mentioned a few things."

Marlon claps his hands together giddily. "I knew it! Details please!" He drums his hands expectantly on the surface of the bar.

She sighs. "If I tell you, will you leave me alone so I can read this magazine in peace?"

"Maybe."

She sighs again. "Fine." And rolls her eyes. "She wants a spring wedding."

"Delightful."

"Just something small- immediate family and close friends only."

"Very intimate."

"Neither of us will be wearing white."

"Of course." The minute the words are said he clamps his hand over his mouth, eyes widening in horror.

"Excuse. _Me."_ An eyebrow is raised in a manner that can only be described as threatening.

Before Charity can say anything else Marlon bursts out "No, no, I mean because it’s so...old fashioned. Jessie wore yellow. It’s cool now. Colours are cool. White is so blergh!" He’s on the verge of full-on babbling but somehow manages to contain himself.

"Anyway," she shoots him a pointed look, "we haven’t decided on a venue yet."

 

"Aw. You excited?" He risks a nudge to her arm.

"Marlon, it’s not like I haven’t been in this situation half a dozen times before."

"Yeah, but, it’s different this time isn’t it?" He grins. "Never nabbed yourself a wife before."

Charity smiles in spite of herself. "Yeah," her smile softens. "It’s definitely different this time."

"So are you gonna make her an official Dingle then? Or are you gonna turn posh and become Mrs Woodfield?"

Charity laughs incredulously. "Give over."

"I dunno. Charity Woodfield sounds pretty good to me."

"‘Yeah? Better than Charity Tate? Or Sharma? Or Macey? Yeah, I think I’d best stick to Dingle thank you." The words sound sharper than she’d intended, and Charity sees Marlon’s face fall. "I know, I know, this one’s different." His mouth twitches. "I’m doing it for the right reasons this time." The smile starts to reappear slowly. "Because I love her." And now it’s a full blown grin again. "But she’s not gonna become a Dingle, okay?"

"She said that, has she?" He’s aiming for nonchalant and hitting irritating dead-on.

"Not in so many words, no. But Marlon, come on. Dingle? No one in their right mind would choose that over Woodfield. It’s a bloody awful name and you know it."

"Hey!"

She ignores his outrage and continues.

"I’m flaming well lucky she said yes to marrying me in the first place. I’m not gonna push my luck with trying to get her to take on the Dingle name as well."

"Ha!" If he was giddy before he’s practically delirious now. "You _do_ want her to be a Dingle."

"Shut up Marlon."

"Does it make you feel warm inside when you hear it? Vanessa Dingle."

"Stop talking right now."

"Charity and Vanessa Dingle."

"I swear to god…" Charity could feel a headache brewing.

"You and her and your little army of Dingle kids."

"There’s no way she’d agree to it!" She turns away, aggrieved, and starts angrily flipping through the magazine she’s been trying to read for the last ten minutes.

"She would if you asked."

She’s trying to disengage from this ridiculous conversation, but when she hears those words Charity can’t stop herself from asking "do you really think so?"

Marlon doesn’t say anything for a moment, so she risks looking at him. He’s not grinning now. He’s looking at her like he’s seeing her for the first time. "Well it’s different this time, yeah?"

She nods.

"So if you really do love her," he pauses off the back of the glare she flicks at him, "and I know you do because, well, I’ve got eyes, and I’ve seen the way you look at her. The way you are with her. Then, don’t let the past dictate what happens next, yeah?"

He stands up and wipes his hands on his apron. "Well, better get back those spuds."

 

xxxxxxxxxx

 

Charity thinks about raising the subject but it never really seems the right time, and she’s not sure how to broach it, and she’s worried about Vanessa saying no, and she’s not even totally sure it’s what she wants, and a thousand and one other excuses dance around her head so she tries to forget it.

It’s not that easy though. It keeps poking her. _Vanessa Dingle_.

 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 

March eventually rolls around, and Vanessa’s suspension is finally lifted. It’s nearly lunchtime and the pub is quiet so Charity takes advantage of Chas nipping to the cellar to change a barrel and sneaks out. She practically skips across to the vets, eager to see her fiancée, and find out how her first day is going.

Before Vanessa, Charity’s not sure she’d ever been to the vets. Maybe once or twice when she had that thing with Zoe? Oh, and there was that incident with the animal tranquillisers which will never be spoken about ever again unless Cain wants to be punched in the throat. Yes, it’s fair to say that Vets has never been a place that’s interested her, because Charity’s never really cared much for animals. She’s always been more focused on necessities like surviving.

As she gets closer to the bright white door she sees the plaques lined up next to the door frame.

Patrick Kirk. Vanessa Woodfield. Rhona Goskirk.

It’s probably her imagination, but the Vanessa plaque seems just that little bit shinier than the others. Very fitting really. She wonders whether Vanessa has been polishing it, and almost unconsciously her hand reaches up and traces the letters. V-a-n-e-s-s-a. Anything Vanessa-related is special, and this plaque, that Charity’s walked past probably a thousand times without noticing, is suddenly the most special thing she’s ever seen. Would it be crazy to try and prise it off the wall and keep it for herself?

She reaches back out, to see just how securely it’s affixed to the wall—

"—Up to no good?" Charity actually _jumps_. She spins around quickly and sees Vanessa smiling at her.

"Jeez babe. Nearly gave me a heart attack!" Vanessa leans in and gives her a gentle kiss before pulling back and looking her up and down.

"What are you doing here anyroad?"

"Me? Uh, I just thought I’d...drop by and see how the fast-paced world of veterinary medicine is treating you."

Vanessa smiles again. "It feels really good to be back at the coalface."

"You missed it." It’s a statement rather than a question.

 "I did, yeah." She shifts her weight and glances over Charity’s shoulder. "So what were you doing?"

"I told you. I was coming to see you babe." Charity fakes a laugh.

 Vanessa shakes her head. "I mean with the plaques."

"Oh. Uh-"

"Not planning on nicking them, I hope?" Vanessa nudges her with her shoulder, a smile on her lips.

Charity’s not one for blushing, but she’s pretty sure her face is flashing a neon ‘BUSTED’ sign right now. "I was just…"

There are two routes open to her right now. Sarcasm and honesty. Which means there’s actually just the one route.

"...admiring the polish on your sign." She jerks a thumb over her shoulder. "Someone’s been buffing it for all they were worth."

A pink tinge makes its way across Vanessa’s face. "In my defence we had a really quiet week last week. And I polished the other plaques too."

"Course babe. Just a coincidence that yours is shining twice as bright as the others." Satisfied that she’s wormed her way out of trouble, Charity winks.

"Well mine’s newer," Vanessa says with just a hint of defensiveness. Her eyes flick to the plaque and then back at Charity. "I don’t know why I bothered really. I might need a new one soon enough."

"Eh?" Charity almost forgets to keep breathing as she waits for whatever is going to come next. In that moment, Vanessa saying what Charity thinks Vanessa is saying seems almost more terrifying than getting her heart broken.

"Well, maybe I’ll have a reason to change my name soon," Vanessa smiles teasingly.

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Course." As Vanessa‘s smile slowly fades, Charity mentally curses her sudden inability to say more than one word at a time. There are a thousand different things that Charity wants to say but her mouth’s gone dry.

"Are you okay?" Vanessa frowns and goes to take a step forward at the same time as Charity takes a step back.

"Me? Peachy babe." She makes a show of looking at a watch she can’t even remember if she’s wearing. "But time’s a-ticking so I’d better get back to the pub before Chas hunts me down and kills me." She leans forward and captures Vanessa’s lips with her own. "I’ll see you later though, yeah?" And then she’s off, hoping Vanessa hasn’t noticed anything amiss.

 

xxxxxxxxxx

 

The rest of the afternoon passes by in a blur. Time is both flying and crawling and Charity can’t decide whether she wants to see Vanessa or not. She wonders if Vanessa has realised how weird she was being earlier and cringes at the memory.

"I’m such a dick."

"Pardon?"

Charity doesn’t even realise she’s spoken out loud until Chas interrupts her thoughts.

‘I..said, uh.. I feel sick?" she finishes lamely.

Chas raises an eyebrow. "How convenient. Funny how you’re suddenly too ill to work the second your fiancée turns up." She gestures to the door, which Vanessa is now walking through.

As usual, Vanessa has a big smile on her face, making a beeline for Charity. "Hiya," she says as she sits at the bar.

"You know, I didn’t think it was possible for Charity to work less, but congratulations Vanessa. You’ve helped her plumb new depths of laziness."

Vanessa looks as Chas, like she’s only just noticed she’s there. "Oh, hi Chas. You okay?"

Chas sighs loudly and stalks off to the back room, muttering something about people being ‘too wrapped up in each other’.

Charity watches her go and then turns back to Vanessa.

"Do you reckon she means us?"

Vanessa laughs. "Definitely." She leans across the bar and kisses Charity deeply.

When they finally pull apart, Charity tilts her head. "Not that I’m complaining babe, and not that you ever need a reason, but what was that for?"

Vanessa shrugs. "Guess I must just really like you."

"You’ve always had impeccable taste. Anyways, how did the rest of your day go? Very well, I’m assuming." Charity feels more confident now they’re on safer ground. Flirting. Work. Normal stuff.

"It was really good, yeah. I’m so glad I don’t have to waste any more time trying to teach Pearl how to use a spreadsheet."

Charity laughs. "You’ve got the patience of a saint, babe."

"Obviously. Look who I’m marrying."

"Ouch." She pouts exaggeratedly. "I’ll have you know I’m delightful."

A sarcastic laugh interrupts them.

"Delightful? Name one person who’s ever referred to you as delightful."

Charity turns her head towards the source of the comment - Paddy - who’s tittering into a pint.

"What’s that Paddy? You’re volunteering to look after the bar while I go in the back and snog the pants off this one? Maybe literally. Ah, you’re an angel."

Before Paddy has a chance to splutter out a protest, Charity has already grabbed Vanessa by the hand and started dragging her towards the cellar door.

 

xxxxxxxxxx

 

Charity’s hands are everywhere, as she trails kisses down Vanessa’s throat.

"I’ve been thinking," grunts out Vanessa with considerable effort. 

Charity stops kissing Vanessa and straightens up. "Uh oh. Sounds dangerous babe."

"Not about anything bad. About us."

"O-kay." If Charity was being honest, this still sounds dangerous but she lets Vanessa say what she needs to.

"When we get married," she pauses, "if it’s all right with you," she pauses again then takes a breath and looks Charity in the eye. "I’m gonna change my name." There’s a lengthy silence. Vanessa presses on. "So, is it? Okay with you, I mean."

More silence.

"Charity?" Vanessa reaches across and puts a hand on hers.

The action seems to spark Charity into speaking again. "Change your name? To… to…" She trails off, unsure she’s understanding correctly.

"Dingle. Vanessa Dingle."

_Oh._

 

"You can’t."

Vanessa looks confused. She expected surprise, maybe even panic, but not outright denial of the very possibility. "I _can’t_?" She’s looking for the answer in Charity’s face but Charity looks as confused as Vanessa feels. "Why not?"

Charity’s eyes dart around the cellar, and then she bursts out "Johnny!" almost triumphantly, like she’s finally found the answer to a crossword clue that’s been bugging her for weeks.

"Johnny?" Vanessa shakes her head. "I’m not sure I follow."

"Well if you change your name to Dingle then he’s gonna be the only Woodfield isn’t he?" Charity says this like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh! Right." Vanessa’s smiling again now, playing along. "Well, I mean, I obviously wouldn’t want him to be the sole Woodfield."

Charity is nodding in agreement.

"Because I wouldn’t want him to feel left out."

Charity shakes her head solemnly.

"So I guess we’d just change his name too."

"Yeah, exactly! I-" She suddenly absorbs what Vanessa has said and stops dead. "Wait, what?"

"We’ll both change our names. Vanessa and Johnny Dingle." She says it so simply, like _of course_ this is what’s going to happen.

And Charity can’t bear it.

She abruptly takes a few steps back.

 

"No." It comes out quietly. Then, "No!" Louder this time. Panicky. "You can’t."

"I-"

Charity cuts her off with "Absolutely not. No way." She’s shaking her head violently to punctuate her point.

Vanessa is completely confused. "But-"

"Dingle? Babe, have you lost your mind?"

"Have I lost _my_ mind?" She jerks a thumb towards herself. "I don’t understand. What’s so crazy about wanting to have the same name as my wife?"

Charity lets out a long breath and runs a hand through her hair. And then she speaks very slowly, like she’s picking the words with the utmost care, like she’s trying to make sure Vanessa will understand. Like Vanessa’s a moron.

"Why-would you want- to saddle Johnny- with the Dingle name? It’s _poison_." The last word is almost hissed and if Vanessa wasn’t already flush against the wall then she’d have taken a step backwards.

"What are you on about?"

"Babe, no good can come from being a Dingle."

"Charity!" Vanessa frowns and moves closer, arm outstretched. "Is this some sort of fear of commitment thing? Because if you’ve changed your mind about getting married-"

She’s cut off by Charity closing the final steps between them and capturing her in a searing kiss.

 

When they pull apart, Charity is staring into her eyes, desperate. "Babe, I haven’t changed my mind. We are getting married. I’m in this one hundred per cent, yeah. I just…" She sighs.

"...don’t want me to be a Dingle," finishes Vanessa miserably.

"Don’t want to ruin your life," she corrects firmly. "Do you know what it’s like being a Dingle?"

"Chaotic?"

"Ain’t that the truth," she mutters. Charity turns around and walks over to the shelf where they store the crisps. For a moment Vanessa wonders if their conversation is over, but then Charity starts speaking again, quietly this time.

"Ever since I was a kid I’ve been told over and over about the Dingle code. You must never break the Dingle code. You’ve got to put Dingle honour before anything else. Remember to close ranks if there’s trouble." She moves over to the sofa and picks an invisible piece of lint off it. "Do you know how many times I’ve been disowned?" She spins round and starts counting on her fingers.

"When they found out I was on the game. When they found out about Debbie. The time I told Cain I couldn’t go through with marrying him. When I had Moses. That whole mess with Jai and Rachel…" She sighs. "And sometimes I deserved it, yeah? I was a cow. But when it comes down to it, they turned their back on a fourteen year old girl who had no choice but to sell herself to survive."

"Charity," whispers Vanessa.

"But I’m the wrong ‘un. And I’m stuck in this sick, weird dynamic where I’m constantly trying to prove myself to a bunch of hypocrites who couldn’t care less. You know why?"

Vanessa shakes her head mutely.

"The kids. If it comes to it, if I cut the rest of the family off, do you think, even for a second, that Debbie would choose me over them? Or Noah, Sarah, Jack? No way. So I have to keep coming back over and over, trying to stake my claim." She bares her teeth in a snarl. "I’ve tried to make a break a few times, you know. Charity Tate. Charity Sharma. Charity Macey. But I just can’t shake the Dingles off. It never sticks."

Vanessa is just looking at her, almost too afraid to breath in case it breaks the spell. Charity needs to say these things, and Vanessa needs to hear them, however much they’ll hurt.

"We all do it though. I’m not sure if there’s any Dingle who hasn’t been disowned at some point. Cain, Marlon, Even Zak." She laughs bitterly. "It’s like we’re brainwashed. We know the family’s no good for us but we keep coming back for more. What a bunch of idiots."

She looks at Vanessa, really looks at her, and softens. "For all the rubbish the Dingles spout about family, we don’t have a great track record of protecting the people we love. We offer them the Dingle name like it’s some sort of magic talisman but it taints everything it comes into contact with. Like Moira, yeah? Since she got tangled up with the Dingles everything in her life’s gone to shit. She convinced herself that changing her name made everything worth it. Her dead first husband. The mess with her family. But where’s it got her? A dead daughter, a son on the run, and almost losing baby Isaac."

She takes a step closer to Vanessa and she almost doesn’t need to say anything else because Vanessa knows where this is going. Where it was always going. Because it could never have gone any other way.

"I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than I thought I was capable of loving anyone. And I know you love me. Couldn’t stop you, even if I wanted to, could I?"

Vanessa looks deep into her eyes and shakes her head softly.

"And I don’t want to. Because you’re perfect and beautiful and _mine_. But maybe if I keep you far enough away from this rest of them, if you’re not a 'real' Dingle,’ she makes air quotes with her fingers, "maybe I can protect you from it. You and Johnny. Let the sun keep shining a little bit longer."

Vanessa can’t stop the sob escaping her throat.

 

"Charity," she begins, when she’s finally able to speak. "Have I ever told you why I’m a Woodfield?"

Charity shakes her head.

"My dad left when I was about ten. Him and my mum, they were always fighting, so it wasn’t a big surprise or ‘owt. But he was crap at being a dad. I’d go months without seeing him and then he’d suddenly turn up again like nothing had happened." Vanessa pauses and frowns at the memory. "My mum met a new bloke and decided to marry him. He was all right I suppose. He loved my mum but he was a lot older than she was. A good twenty or so years. And he had no interest in being a dad, but…" she trails off sadly.

"But?"

"My mum thought if we all took his name then it would make us a proper family. And we could move on and leave my real dad in the past. So Vanessa Clayton became Vanessa Woodfield." Vanessa lets out a soft laugh. "So here I am. Carrying the surname of a man who barely tolerated me."

"Ness," begins Charity warningly.

"I couldn’t give a fig about the other Dingles. I’m not interested in what scams they’re pulling or who they’re fighting with. And any road, do you really think that Cain Dingle is going to make me keep his dirty little secrets? Or that Zak is going to be able to tell me what I can and can’t do?" Charity can’t help but laugh at the notion. "I don’t want to be a Dingle so I can get involved in Dingle family business. All I care about are you and the kids. I wanted to be a Dingle because _you’re_ a Dingle."

"Oh."

"Because I love you. And I don’t care who knows it." She shrugs. "I mean, is there anyone left in the village who doesn’t know it already? I love you and our little family. So you know what?" Her eyes are shining now. "Fuck the rest of them. Michael Woodfield never deserved me. And the Dingles don’t deserve you. So let’s strike out on our own. Create our own little clan of Dingle-Stocks-Woodfield-Clayton-Shankley-Barton-Whatevers." They both laugh.

"Bit of a mouthful that, babe. Kinda difficult to fit it on a driving license."

"How about we go with Dingle for short then?" Vanessa wonders for a second if she’s pushed too far but her worry is quickly replaced with a sense of certainty. Charity has always stepped up when she’s needed to.

"You know what I think?" Charity leans in and places a gentle kiss on Vanessa’s lips, knowing that in this, as with all things, she’ll give Vanessa whatever she wants. "I think that if you’re willing to hold my hand, and wear my ring, and sleep in my bed, then you can call yourself whatever the hell you want. As long as I get to call you my wife."


End file.
